


Suds for Brains

by martialartist816



Series: Misadventures of a Prince and His Knight [3]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, Intimacy, M/M, bathing together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 06:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16805140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martialartist816/pseuds/martialartist816
Summary: If someone decided to open the doors to the bathhouse and peek their head in, they'd see the prince and his protector swaping suds.





	Suds for Brains

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for Soren's borderline adult thoughts.

It doesn’t really hit Soren when he walks into Prince Callum’s bedroom and finds not the older but the younger brother. It still doesn’t hit him when Ezran tells him that Callum is in the bathhouse. For some reason, Soren’s brain just doesn’t want to connect the dots until he swings open the heavy wooden door that leads to the bathhouse, feels the steam of the room wash over him, and sees Callum’s bare shoulders just visible above the lip of the pool.

That’s when it hits him.

Soren’s mind draws a blank as to what he needed Callum for in the first place. Something about training.

While technically a public space, this room is used primarily by the royal family. Servants would never even think about trying to use the facilities that are decorated with gold finishes and silk drapery. No, the common folk in the castle have rooms that are less extravagant. The three royals have this area all to themselves. It’s not the first time Soren has seen it, but the first time he’s seen Callum in it. The bath looks too big for just one small prince.

As a knight, Soren falls in a weird space between royal and servant. His father’s friendship with the king earned their family a nice little nook in the castle, complete with their own rooms and bathhouse. Nicer than the servants, but without the gold and the silk.

Callum still hasn’t noticed his presence, so of course, Soren decides to take full advantage of that. He closes the door as quietly as possible and sneaks closer to the unsuspecting prince. Lucky he isn’t wearing his armor. In a simple long-sleeved shirt and pants, Soren can walk basically noiseless until he’s directly behind Callum.

As quick as a blade, Soren kneels behind the prince and slides his fingers into his hair. He uses the grip to angle his head back, exposing his throat. The index finger on Soren’s free hand rests across the curve of his throat, perpendicular to mimic a dagger.

“You’re dead,” Soren murmurs behind his head.

He can feel Callum’s soft, surprised gasp in his throat. He sees his body go tense in the water, and it doesn’t relax even as it takes him less than a second to recognize the voice of his pseudo assailant.

“I swear,” Callum sighs out in exasperation, “you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“It’s your own fault for letting your guard down and not even hearing me sneak in. Have I taught you nothing?” Soren releases him and sits properly on the stone floor.

Callum turns at an angle to see his face, knees drawn up under the water to cover himself modestly. Not that Soren was looking. That much.

“My guard, meaning you.”

“I can’t protect you from everything. One of these days,” Soren echoes, “someone will come in through the window while you’re busy steaming your pores.” He runs the backs of his knuckles down Callum’s smooth cheek. “And that’ll be the end of you.”

Instead of brushing away Soren’s touch, Callum does the opposite, leaning into his hand. He takes it a step further and and blinks slowly at Soren, eyes big and innocent with sparkling drops of water clinging to the lashes.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to stay by my side every hour of the day, even when I’m in the bath.”

The simple insinuation is enough to make Soren’s brain short circuit. What has he come here for anyway? To tell Callum that he’s late for training?

“We can skip training for today,” his mouth betrays him. Damn, Soren is supposed to make Callum better at defending himself, not rewarding him for playing hooky and letting his defenses slacken.

“Good,” Callum says, dropping the flirty facade and angling his head away from Soren’s hand. He adopts a convincingly bored expression, but he can’t hide the redness on his cheeks from Soren and definitely can’t blame the warm water for it. “It’s too cold outside for training, anyway.”

Soren’s hand falls to the surface of the water. His fingers dangle in it, and he lets out a hum at how nice and warm it is. He can see now why Callum would be hesitant to leave this behind for a brisk exercise in the the chilly, damp courtyard.

“Need help washing up?” Soren asks.

“Don’t you have responsibilities?”

“You are my responsibility.” Which isn’t a lie. Soren’s first priority is keeping an eye on the prince.

“I guess.” Callum half-smiles shyly, eyes fixed on the water. “If you have nothing better to do.”

“There is never anything better to do.” This isn’t a lie, either. Before Callum can process the weight and truth of Soren’s words, though, Soren gets to his feet and peels his clothes off.

Callum faces the opposite direction, his shoulders coming up. Soren watches from the corner of his eye as he folds his clothes and places them next to where Callum’s are.

The prince still looks away when Soren steps into the pool. He can’t help the happy sigh that comes from his mouth when he feels the chill and tension in his muscles leak into the warm water. He submerges up to his chest, mind going hazy with relaxation.

When Callum thinks it’s safe to look, he turns his head back toward Soren.

“Is getting naked really necessary for helping me clean up?” he asks, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

“You know how that saying goes. ‘I wash your back, you wash mine’.”

“I think it’s ‘scratch’, but yeah.”

Soren grabs the perfumed bar of soap from its stand next to the bath. “Now we’re on the same page.” He slips one arm around Callum’s waist and gives him a gentle pull. “Here, float on your back. I’ll clean your hair.”

He catches the way Callum suppresses a smile by biting on his bottom lip. The prince adjusts himself to lean back in front of Soren, eyes to the ceiling. When his hair meets the water, the strands bleed apart and float like fallen leaves. Soren slowly runs his fingers through it, appreciating how soft it is.

Getting to work, he lathers his hands with soap and massages it into Callum’s scalp. The prince closes his eyes, his expression relaxing completely. Soren watches his face, fixated on his features as his hand continues to distractedly rub his head and pet his hair. He replaces the soap bar and uses his free hand to rest across Callum’s waist, holding him so he doesn’t float away.

It’s like a fantasy they’re living in, certainly a fantasy Soren has thought about at least once or twice. They’re comfortable, they’re warm, for once they’re not teasing each other. Soren’s eyes travel over what is exposed of Callum’s body, which is everything. He’s still scrawny, but Soren can tell that if Callum was actually serious about training that he could have a pretty nice build. For now, his shoulders and chest are narrow. His throat is slender, his pink nipples stand out against pale skin. Pale skin that’s gently flushed from the water.

Soren isn’t taken by surprise at the urge to touch his mouth all over Callum’s body. He has since gotten used to the new fact that maybe he sees the prince as something more than a friend. He’s certainly more than just his charge. He isn’t sure if Callum has picked up on the playful flirts that have been sent his way lately. Callum reciprocates, but Soren can’t tell if he means them.

He knows he doesn’t mind how they are now. They teeter back and forth, sometimes, like now, getting dangerously close to a line that probably shouldn’t be crossed. But they have yet to reach that edge, and it’s kind of exciting. He doesn’t know what’s on the other side of that cliff, and he’s having too much fun now to make it come to an end.

“All done,” he says after much longer than needed to wash someone’s hair. “Time for your back?”

Callum opens his eyes slowly and moves to sit upright again. “You first.”

With determination on his face, Callum puts his hands on Soren’s body to get him in a different position. Soren ends up leaning back with his head propped up by the edge of the pool. The rest of his body from the neck down is submerged in lovely, sudsy water.

Callum pulls an unexpected move when he straddles Soren’s hips.

Soren raises his eyebrows. Callum frowns in disapproval.

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” he says as he reaches for the soap.

“I’m full of funny ideas.”

Callum shakes his head and lathers both hands with soap. They lower onto Soren’s chest, making slow circles to clean his skin. “I’ll kick you out without any clothes.”

“You wouldn’t be so cruel.” Soren closes his eyes because the hands on him are so soothing and all of this is way more than he bargained for.

“Try me.” He hears the smile on Callum’s lips.

Soren says nothing. Instead, he falls victim to Callum’s massaging hands as they move up his neck and back down over his shoulders. The soap is spread thin, but he knows this isn’t really about cleaning anymore. Callum is probably looking at him the same way he did when the prince had his eyes closed just moments ago. Soren wonders if the same thoughts are running through Callum’s mind.

Because he can’t help himself, Soren raises his arms behind Callum in a loose hug. They fit so well together. Callum lets out a sigh, so quiet it’s more like a whisper. As much as Soren wants to crush Callum to his chest, he doesn't move. Callum in in charge. Soren wants to see what he’ll do with that power.

Those hands are back, close to his face. Callum’s fingers brush down both sides of his jaw, and Soren thinks he might actually be holding him in place for a kiss. He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to scare Callum away if he is indeed struck by some sort of bravery.

A thumb runs over his lips. It’s delicate, light, and everything Soren wants. It’s brief, too, and Callum goes back to cupping his cheek.

“Tempting?” Soren asks.

Callum brushes his fingers down his cheek. “I was just thinking about how nice you are when you aren’t talking.”

Soren’s eyes shoot open, and he glares at the prince challengingly.

“I could drown you,” he warns.

Callum laughs and scrambles out of Soren’s lap. In a flash, he’s at the other end of the pool, hand poised above the water, prepared to splash.

“You have to catch me first!”

**Author's Note:**

> two bros  
> chillin in the bathhouse  
> no feet apart 'cause they are gay
> 
> You guys have no idea how close this came to smut


End file.
